


Fifteen Minutes

by anayrovi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anayrovi/pseuds/anayrovi
Summary: You and Sachirou decide to make the most out of the fifteen minutes.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou/Reader
Kudos: 22





	Fifteen Minutes

"But, why not?" you nuzzle your nose on his neck, caressing his stomach with your fingers. He grunts, breathing slightly heavier than usual as he gazes at you, bedroom eyes and all.

"Because I have school in fifteen minutes, sweetie," he gulps, eyeing your finger that slides down and down from his stomach to the waistband of his scrubs.

"But you're dressed, and you have  ** fifteen minutes ** left. The university isn't that far," you whisper to his ear. You were his weakness. He has told you that many times, over and over. But he buts in with another remark right after, that you were his precious strength, one of the many reasons why he desires to wake up every morning. You love him, and he, of course, loves you with all of his heart too. 

He suppresses a chuckle and then gulps instead before grabbing your hands with a tight grip. It does not hurt, but it has the potential if he puts in more strength. But you know for sure he is not like that. He grips it to his chest, "Sweetie, you are such a tease, aren't you? Bending down while fetching pans from the lower cupboard, pressing your body to mine while you gave me a morning hug earlier, touching me in places that are far too naughty not to think about. Are you trying to do something to me?"

You have hit it. He was playfully furious at you now. The urge to take you right then and there coursing through his mind. He could not handle it anymore, and as he glances at his wristwatch, he gives you the familiar devilish smirk of his.

" ** Fourteen minutes ** , bend over the counter right now," he says, letting your wrists go, ushering you towards the kitchen counter. You yelp, feeling the air of sexual tension becoming more and more profound, more chilling. You strip naked, fingering the waistband of your underwear before sliding them down slowly. There was the telltale wet spot in between, the slick spreading to your inner thighs, and you rub them desperately, anything for an ounce of relief that Sachirou's scrutinizing eyes cannot give you. Your nipples rise under the hot air of the kitchen, your neck uncomfortably craning to meet his gaze. He is right in front of you, waiting, scrutinizing your form.

You cry, "Sachirou, baby, please please, I want it," All things involving your pride and your humiliation shatters as it evolves to pure, unadulterated lust and desire. You want his touch on your body, on your hips, in between, on your neck, on your stomach, everywhere. Everywhere he touches, it shivers, and it sends blissful stardust behind your eyes.

" ** Thirteen minutes ** ," he says, sauntering towards you in his leisurely ways. The lights of the kitchen illuminate him well, eyes glinting with lust and carefully hidden impatience. Your boyfriend was taking his time despite teetering on the edge of being late to his university lectures. He arrives behind you. Your shoulders rounding, your breath hitching as your heart pulsates nervous thrums in your chest, vibrating throughout your body and stirring the lust that quivers in your soul. You feel him shift behind you.

The atmosphere is thick. The thickest it has ever been in this kitchen. The rich colors of the red counter and the blinding lights of the kitchen are almost overwhelming. It sends you to overdrive. It messes with your thoughts too profoundly you wonder if you were floating in euphoria, but you were only staying afloat with the firm dig of your forearms to the counter, the hot air from the kitchen fan brushing over your naked pussy.  It all feels hot, even the fingers that caress the flesh of your hips. His hands go down to cross at your lower stomach and move even lower. His fingers feel hot, but they make you shiver.

He groans when he touches your folds, and your pussy tingles with need. From your folds to the toes of your feet, it tingles a sensation you could never get enough of. You hear him undressing, " ** Twelve minutes ** , sweetie, no more foreplay. I want you to devour all of me."

It was then you felt into a sea of pleasure as he inserts his cock too fast for pleasure to register. It hurts, it is painful, but you breathe in and out as the pleasure completely overwhelms your senses, blocking all rational thought. He moves fast yet sensual, delicate, his hands running across your flesh, palming your breasts and rolling your nipples. The sweat of your bodies drip into the red counter, and your vision blurs as the deep lust surges through your mind, electrifying even the room's atmosphere.

He shouts your name, and it makes you squirm in your knees. His hold on your waist tightens as your breath tightens with it. Everything feels so fast. Your legs spread out, your forearms giving out as your chest slaps down to the red counter, your forehead bathing in sweat, and you issue a scream when he nudges a spot in your walls. You hear him grunting; the colors of red and white blur your field of vision. The pleasure consumes everything and anything, including you and your thoughts.

With no shred of modesty, you orgasm, shaking underneath his fury. You hear him give a loud moan, and a bleating wail comes from your mouth, your walls wrapping and tightening around him.

But before he orgasms, he stops and places a palm on your mouth, halting all of your words or sounds of pleasure. He grabs on tightly to your waist and lifts you off the counter to guide you to the dinner table that was just beside you without pulling out of you. He makes you turn around by grabbing your hair. You are sprawled on the table, like how he wants, as truly evident from the way his eyes glint. 

"Look at you, like a ragdoll just for my pleasure. Can't hold in your desires, can you?" he mocks as he continues with his pace, the table squeaking in protest to the movements. Your eyes squint, the lights too blinding, the pleasure creeping back in as a second orgasm swallows you, drowning in the depths of the seas. He follows, moaning in your ear, huskily. It is hot, the atmosphere, his touch, everything. But you revel in it. You love it. You bask under his lukewarm affection and aftercare. 

He paints your walls with the sin built from profound lust.

"Ah, look at that," he says after a long while, staring at the mess under him, which is you, "is my baby finally satisfied?" Your head throbs, a headache forming shortly after you have calmed down. You felt hot, but an uncomfortable hot, one that you want to satiate by bathing in ice. 

You roll your eyes and try to stand up, huffing. He lets you, chuckling like the mocking man he is, and he looks at his wristwatch, his face going pale as he lets out an annoyed groan,

"Ah fuck, I'm fifteen minutes late."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> tumblr - @anayrovi


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